You called yourself a murderess. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that. She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. A failure! She must write herself down a failure! At her age, with her ambitions, with her artistic temperament and creative instincts, she was yet to be denied all coherent means of expression. "Perhaps things would have been different if she had lived. He’ll survive.
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